My Diary

Back to normal and I waxed the corkscrew moustache on a face that appeared through the small pink cushion I have been attempting to tame in the wild corner of our bedroom. After calling out bingo numbers like Tarzan calling to the animals I was carried downstairs by a cloud of small tortoiseshell butterflies. I painted a picture using my nose, which had been fashioned into a guillemot beak for this very purpose. I noticed that the childhood photograph hanging over the blacksmith’s bellows was growing its hair long (I feel my childhood hair was wavy like a Tsunami but this is probably sour grapes!). While I reflected on this June served dinner on a mobile telephone and turned an acoustic guitar into a hutch for a family of albino ferrets.


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